Global Wandering

Today is packing day for our family road trip. As vacations go, I typically am responsible for planning the itinerary. My usual approach is to have a few hotel rooms booked, several sites penciled in that we want to tour, and a general idea of the type of activities we want to pursue, but we don’t plan out every single day.

For this trip, I have taken a different approach. Our itinerary consists of three elements:

1. Load up the van.
2. Head North.
3. Come back when we are tired of being away.

We have at least adopted a trip motto. Well, I’ve adopted a trip motto. I’ll let LaPriel and the kids read about it on this blog.

Sean Penn in the April 3, 2006 New Yorker said, “It's not an obligation of a tourist so much to observe experience so much as to have it. For me, a greater accuracy of perception comes out of that.”

So in the spirit of Sean Penn, I spent a few days in Texas earlier this week having experiences. While traveling can be eye opening, it also seems to generate more questions then it answers. I jotted down a few during my time in San Antonio and Austin.

Why did the TSA hire so many ex-circus barkers to work the security checkpoints at U.S. airports? If they insist on telling people over and over again to remove their laptops from their carrying cases and keep ahold of their boarding passes, couldn’t they at least play a recording with soothing background music and a pleasant voice gentling reminding passengers of these items. Instead, we have to be yelled at by over-exuberant TSA officials as if they are herding sheep. This is especially prevalent at Texas airports.

Why does SkyWest on two and a half hour flights only provide a baggy with twelve fish-shaped graham crackers to eat? That is only 28 calories of sustenance per hour, 672 calories per day. Is it their contribution to fighting our nation’s obesity problem?

Why do some traveler’s lug around thirty pound laptops the size of the large atlases on display at libraries? These monstrosities barely fit on the airline seat-back trays. That reminds me of an employee we had several years ago who insisted her new eight pound laptop was too heavy and she needed a lighter one. We bought her a metal cart to roll it around on. Later, we recanted after decided we were probably on shaky legal ground.

Why did the Austin Hyatt Regency offer to have me sleep in the parlor when they ran out of non smoking rooms? They said the parlor had recently been redecorated and it was definitely non smoking. I agreed and hauled my bags up to the twelfth floor. The parlor was the other half of a suite. At first glance, it seemed nice. Comfortable chairs, a large table, flat-screen television, bathroom. The only thing missing was a bed. Not even a rollaway bed or a sleeper sofa.

Do they take the shells off soft-shell crabs before serving them or do they just not have any? I had lunch with a client in San Antonio at a seafood restaurant. The server was so excited by the day’s special I ordered it⎯soft-shell crab prepared tempura style. The plate came with the entire crab, pinchers and all, covered with a light tempura batter. I was clueless how to eat it. Fortunately, my client also ordered the crab and he proceeded to eat one of the pinchers. I decided if the pincher was edible then it would be safe to eat the entire thing. Delicious.

Do attorneys ever sit when they address a small group? In Austin, I spoke to non-profit board consisting mostly of attorneys. The twenty or so board members sat at a very long table. The first speaker marched to the end of the table and gave a ten minute presentation. Typically in a boardroom you sit when presenting if there are less than twenty people, especially if they are at a table. This speaker stood. I thought that was odd, but then noticed there was no chair. Hence when my turn came I stood at the end of the table and presented for ninety minutes while my listeners sat comfortably in their seats.

Why do Tejano radio stations only play the same dozen songs? I like Mexican music, especially rancheras. It is an acquired taste. In San Antonio, it's Fiesta time. On Tuesday evening various mariachi bands such as the one pictured above played rancheras from barges along the Riverwalk. The music was beautiful. There must be thousand of rancheras, but when I listen to Tejano stations, which admittedly is a subset of rancheras, they are always playing the same songs.

I have other questions, but it is time to go pack the van.

Technorati Tag: travel

Posted by jd at 7:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I spent last night at a sleep clinic in Pocatello, Idaho. The last time I slept in Pocatello was on my honeymoon (Yes, I know I can hear the questions now, you went to Pocatello on your honeymoon? We did. It’s called poverty).

The sleep clinic tried its best to masquerade as a comfy hotel. My room had soft curtains, pleasant pictures, and bounteous pillows. Generally it succeeded at this charade, except for the infrared light and closed circuit camera pointing at me. Plus the array of electrodes and wires pasted all over my body, the straps around my chest and waist, the oxygen tube up my nose, and the pulse monitor taped to my finger. After filling out a lengthy questionnaire, I attempted to fall asleep knowing there were two technicians staring at a screen monitoring my every breath and movement.

What was the prognosis from the technician that woke me early this morning so I wouldn’t miss my flight to San Antonio? She said I slept very well by sleep clinic standards. I suppose that meant I didn’t get tangled up in the wires and the alarm only went off once at 3:00 AM when the pulse monitor disconnected.

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Posted by jd at 4:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Google for once has failed me. While watching the San Francisco parade yesterday there was an Asian man in his mid-fifties walking beside Firefighters Local 798 carrying the above placard. What does it mean? For what brave cause does this man valiantly fight? Perhaps it is a code with the secret of life hidden deep within or a message from space aliens. I searched Google and found nothing. Any ideas?

As for other mysteries, what do you think San Francisco’s Mayor Gavin Newsom is looking it? Has someone threatened to drop a water balloon on his head? Perhaps a constinuent has yelled, “How can you effectively oversee this great city if you can’t even tie your tie to the proper length?” Or then again, now that he is single maybe he found someone to give his bouquet of flowers to.

Finally, I exposed the Fruit of the Loom guys as frauds. Watching them on televison, you might think they do their own stunts, such as driving cars down city streets. Now we know the truth. They are being towed around and only pretend to drive. The green one looked a little peeved when I discovered the their dark secret.

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Posted by jd at 7:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Today San Francisco commemorated the 100th anniversary of the 1906 earthquake. One of the events held was the traditional firefighter's parade on Market Street. I love parades. It’s been years since I marched in one, but I still remember the pride I felt in my community and town. I saw that same pride and joy in the faces of the San Francisco firefighters, students and spectators.

On the other hand, maybe they were just thrilled about the first warm sunny day in months. I know I enjoyed it.

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Posted by jd at 6:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

LaPriel and the kids want pet chickens. I have tried to no avail to explain the phrase pet chicken is an oxymoron. Chickens don’t cuddle, they don’t do tricks, you can’t take them for walks. They just cluck and lay eggs. Besides they are illegal in our little Idaho town. LaPriel and the kids point out that if you raise chickens for 4H club purposes the city won’t prosecute you.

At the park last Friday, we met a woman who had brought her long-haired Chihuahua and grandchild to play. Breanna tried to pet the dog, but it ran off. The woman called her dog a chicken; which is how we got to conversing with her about our family considering an investment in poultry. I was ready for the woman to give us the “you can’t be serious” look and slowly ease her grandchild to other side of the playground.

Instead, she reminisced about the pet chickens she owned in San Francisco. How she would carry them around and pet them, how excellent they were at fertilizing the lawn, and the delightful eggs they produced. I was the only one that noticed this woman actually looked like a chicken when she said this. Her chest was puffed out and she placed her hands on her waist and stuck out her elbows as if forming wings. They say if you keep a pet long enough you will begin to look like it.

The chicken lady provided some sage advice, which I warmly pass onto those of you considering purchasing a pet chicken this Easter eve.

Always buy adult hens because if you buy them as chicks you can’t distinguish baby hens from baby roosters. And unlike chickens, roosters make lousy pets.

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Posted by jd at 9:30 PM | Permalink

My two sons and I joined the immigration march and rally this morning in our little Idaho town. Okay we we missed the march and joined the latter part of the rally because I didn't get off a client conference call in time.

We figured the crowd size was somewhere betwen 250 and 500,000. It was hard to tell because the rally was held in the Wal Mart parking lot so we couldn't determine who was there to support immigration reform and who was there to buy groceries.

We, of course, were there to do both.
After the rally ended, we headed into Wal Mart to pick up some rations. Who says political engagement can't be convenient.

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Posted by jd at 5:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I’ve been traveling on a regular basis for about ten years. That is long enough to notice trends ⎯ which I suppose is one advantage of getting older, you’ve been around long enough to collect sufficient data points to draw definitive conclusions.

Today’s definitive conclusion is people are hauling around more and more stuff when they travel. Ten years ago roller bags were just gaining popularity. Most business travelers still used garment bags. In fact, there are still a few travelers with anguished faces lugging around garment bags. I’m convinced they endure this back breaking work not because they are cheap or can’t afford a roller bag. No, it is because no one has told them that if they buy decent clothes, they can pack them in 22 inch roller bags, hang them up at night and they won’t be wrinkled in the morning. Believe me, I was one of those misguided souls.

Back in the day, if you were going on an extended journey you would pack your things in a wood trunk or a few American Tourister suitcases. The volume of items packed was limited by your ability to physically transport it, especially given the trunks and suitcases were extremely heavy, even when empty. Now thanks to advances in lightweight ballistic fibers and precision wheel technology, travelers are free to pack whatever they want. And they do. This is most evident on rental car shuttles where I see people drag aboard roller bags that are almost as big as they are.

Now if you are going to stay somewhere for an extended length of time, you don’t rent a car. It’s too expensive. So I know these people with excessive luggage will only be at their destination for a week or two. As I sit on the rental car bus and compare my diminutive 22 inch roller bag with the rolling freight cars stacked on the floor, I can’t fathom what one would pack for a week’s vacation to fill them up. Food, perhaps?

If anyone has an idea, let me know.

Yesterday I had a few hours to kill before my flight so I took a long drive through Los Angeles neighborhoods. I headed north on La Brea Street toward Hollywood and didn’t stop until I was on the skinniest of one lane avenues high up in Hollywood hills where the famous folks live.

Los Angeles is one giant suburb. Cities and suburbs were on my mind because I had just read a white paper by Harvard’s Edward Glaeser titled Urban Resurgence and the Consumer City. The paper was an elaborate study of why people in the U.S. still live in cities.

Up until the late nineteenth century cities were a horribly unhealthy place to live because unclean water and poor sewage disposal led to disease. With the advent of the ingenious invention called the municipal bond in the early twentieth century, cities began borrowing funds to build sewage treatment plants and water systems. Cities became more livable and people lived there because that was where the jobs were and without cars it was uneconomical to live anywhere else. These large cities usually developed along rivers and lakes so coal and other goods and supplies could be easily transported.

With the invention of the automobile and cheap fuel, the great migration out of northern cities to warm southern riverless suburbs began and continues.

According to Glaeser, this vast migration out of cities to warmer suburbs is unique to the U.S. because in Europe, the countries are smaller, hence the weather more homogenous within a given country, and the gas taxes are much higher so it’s more expensive to own a car. Gas taxes and land must be cheaper in Australia than in Europe, because I noticed when I visited Australia last August, the country seemed to have as many suburbs as the U.S.

What I found surprising about Glaeser’s study is common wisdom suggests sprawling suburbs lead to longer commute times. In fact, individuals that commute by car on average have shorter commute times than individuals that use public transportation (public transport takes longer due to the necessity of walking to the bus stop or train depot, waiting for the train to come, and then walking to your workplace once you arrive in the city⎯after sitting in LA traffic, I’m not convinced commuting by car is faster in that locale.)

Other surprising thing about the study is folks in the suburbs actually have more social interaction with residents then people do in cities. Also, the reason housing prices in northern cities haven’t fallen significantly despite declining populations is the housing stock is permanent so immigrants and people who can’t afford cars have moved in to take advantage of the affordable housing prices and public transportation.

There is hope for cities though, as many of these places are experiencing a renaissance. Cities are attracting more people because crime has fallen and the choice of amenities is greater in the cities than in the suburbs. These amenities include live theatre, concerts, museums, and fine restaurants.

What I wonder is how suburbanites will adapt if gas prices hit 4 or 5 dollars a gallon, a distinct possibility that I won’t elaborate on here. Suddenly, cities will be even more appealing.

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Posted by jd at 8:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I’ve been in the Los Angeles area the past couple a days. The picture above was taken from the balcony of my hotel in Santa Monica.

Once a year one of my partners and I try to make it to a finance conference where we don’t have to worry about marketing or networking. We just get to sit and listen to a bunch of rocket scientists talk about things we barely understand⎯the financial concepts and themes make sense, it’s just the math that alludes me. Usually we come away with a few good ideas that could benefit our clients.

We skipped out on one of the sessions, walked along the pier in Marina Del Rey and discovered a television crew filming a show by the bay. We approached, not knowing the twenty people on the beach watching the bikini clad woman paddling a wood raft were not spectators but production folks.

A worker marched toward us with a threatening glare.

Highly paid television production crew member (HPTPCM): You guys need to get back?

Us, playing dumb: Why? Are they filming a TV show?

HPTPCM: Yes, and sometimes they do wide angle shots and we can’t have you in it.

Us, noticing for the first time we are standing in front of an improvised Tiki bar, boat riggings, wooden chests and other set pieces scattered about to suggest the woman paddling the raft has been shipwrecked. Our blue blazers suddenly seem out of place: What show are they filming?

HPTPCM: It’s a reality show.

Us: What’s it called?

HPTPCM, clearly uncomfortable with this line of questioning: It’s on the bust.

We glance at the shipwrecked woman to see if her bikini top has the name of the show written across it. We don’t see anything. Then we notice the tour bus parked by the set. It’s says Next.

Ah, bus, we realize. He meant bus.

Only now that I have Internet access I can’t find a reality show called Next. Unless it was short for America’s Next Top Model. Perhaps it’s a pilot for a new show.

Anyway, if you see a reality show with a shipwrecked woman on a tropical isle, I can attest to the fact the island is fake. All the tropical fauna was planted in flowerpots.

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Posted by jd at 10:59 PM | Permalink

Daisy by Clic Chick
One of the most fascinating developments over the past two years is the rise of photo sharing websites such as Flickr. Every minute of every day thousands of photos from around the globe are being uploaded and made public for all to see.

hand of a shepherd by adritzz

During particularly dry conference calls, I like to pull up Flickr's Most Recent Photos page and just admire the infinite variety of people and places.

These are two I found today. Beautiful.

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Posted by jd at 5:56 PM | Permalink

In 1986, I lived on the U.S. Mexican border ⎯ on the Mexican side. Occasionally at dusk I would walk along the Sonoran desert sand and stare at the invisible line that separated two disparate countries. Usually there were a dozen Mexicans in dark clothes, toting plastic jugs of water, waiting for nightfall so they could dash across that invisible line to find work. Their wives and children were miles away, most likely living in wooden shacks with tarpaper roofs, subsisting on tortillas, beans and weak broth. These fathers had left their families and endured a dangerous journey, a long separation so they might be able to buy a few chickens, some shoes for their kids, notebooks and pencils for school; things that were unaffordable with the handful of pesos they earned growing corn on their small plots of land.

Several generations ago, my family in Ireland, Germany and Holland made similarly dangerous journeys searching for better economics. Only in their case, they didn’t have to sneak in because America was more welcoming then.

Victor Hugo wrote the classic novel about Jean Valjean, an impoverished man who stole a loaf of bread and was relentlessly pursued by Javert, a self-righteous lawman who had lost his sense of compassion and mercy in the pursuit of justice. I can’t help but think both U.S. political parties are filled with Javerts. They demand fences along our southern border to keep immigrants out, as if by closing ourselves in, the world’s problems will go away.

I have returned to the desert border I used to walk along. Now there is a twenty foot steel fence. The flow of Mexicans continues. Physical hunger and the thirst for opportunity will not be thwarted by fences.

They say amnesty is a bad word. They demand we send working immigrants back to their homelands so they can enter our front door legally, otherwise we legitimize their criminal behavior. Yet this demand for justice ignores the fact the front door has been locked for years and when you are hungry and cold and you know there is someone inside who can lift your burden by providing work, you enter anyway you can.

They say immigrants should assimilate, but one can’t assimilate unless they are welcomed. Assimilation does not mean becoming invisible. Assimilation requires change on both sides, respecting and honoring cultural differences.

In this country there is a clear demand for immigrant workers. There is also a ready supply. Yet our current laws and fears distort the system, creating a black market in immigrant labor. Why not acknowledge the economic and social reality of the situation and establish an open system with clear guidelines and rules that allow guest workers to work legally, allow families to emigrate, and allow business to recruit hard workers and great minds from across the globe?

Technorati Tag: immigration

Posted by jd at 6:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)